by Jules Renard (1864 - 1910)
Translation © by Ahmed E. Ismail

La pintade
Language: French (Français) 
Available translation(s): ENG FIN GER
C'est la bossue de ma cour.
Elle ne rêve que plaies à cause de sa bosse.

Les poules ne lui disent rien :
Brusquement, elle se précipite et les harcèle.

Puis elle baisse sa tête, penche le corps,
et, de toute la vitesse de ses pattes maigres,
elle court frapper, de son bec dur,
juste au centre de la roue d'une dinde.
 
Cette poseuse l'agaçait. 

Ainsi, la tête bleuie, ses barbillons à vif,
cocardière, elle rage du matin au soir.
Elle se bat sans motif, 
peut-être parce qu'elle s'imagine 
toujours qu'on se moque de sa taille, 
de son crâne chauve et de sa queue basse. 

Et elle ne cesse de jeter un cri discordant
qui perce l'aire comme un pointe. 

Parfois elle quitte la cour et disparaît.
Elle laisse aux volailles pacifiques 
un moment de répit.
Mais elle revient plus turbulente et plus criarde.
Et, frénétique, elle se vautre par terre.

Qu'a-t'elle donc ?

La sournoise fait une farce. 

Elle est allée pondre son oeuf à la campagne.
 
Je peux le chercher si ça m'amuse.

Et elle se roule dans la poussière comme une bossue.

Authorship

Musical settings (art songs, Lieder, mélodies, (etc.), choral pieces, and other vocal works set to this text), listed by composer (not necessarily exhaustive)

Available translations, adaptations or excerpts, and transliterations (if applicable):

  • ENG English (Ahmed E. Ismail) , "The guinea-fowl", copyright © 2005, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
  • FIN Finnish (Suomi) (Erkki Pullinen) , "Helmikana", copyright © 2017, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
  • GER German (Deutsch) (Bertram Kottmann) , "Das Perlhuhn", copyright © 2017, (re)printed on this website with kind permission


Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]

This text was added to the website between May 1995 and September 2003.
Line count: 27
Word count: 185

The guinea‑fowl
Language: English  after the French (Français) 
It is my beloved hunchback. 
She only dreams of cankers because of her hump. 

The hens do not speak to her. 
Abruptly, she bolts and attacks. 

Then she lowers her head, bends her body, 
and speeding her skinny legs, 
she strikes quickly with her strong beak,
aiming for a turkey in the middle of the circle. 

That showoff gets on her nerves. 

Thus, with her blue-stained head, its plumage frayed, 
she rages from dawn till dusk. 
She fights without cause, 
perhaps because she imagines 
that she is being mocked because of her size, 
because of her bald head, and her low tail. 

And she continually sounds a discordant cry 
that pierces the air like a knife. 

At times she leaves the courtyard and disappears. 
She gives the peaceful birds 
a moment's respite. 
But she returns, more turbulently and more shrill. 
And, frenetically, she sprawls out on the ground. 

What is she doing? 

The cunning prankster - 

she left to lay an egg in the country. 

I can find it if I choose. 

And she rolls around in the dust like a hunchback.

Authorship

  • Translation from French (Français) to English copyright © 2005 by Ahmed E. Ismail, (re)printed on this website with kind permission. To reprint and distribute this author's work for concert programs, CD booklets, etc., you may ask the copyright-holder(s) directly or ask us; we are authorized to grant permission on their behalf. Please provide the translator's name when contacting us.
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This text was added to the website: 2005-09-22
Line count: 27
Word count: 182